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You have traversed across the highlands, with your heroic weapons and learnt brave skills. You have encountered various enemies and undoubtedly made friends along the way, as of yet your unique stories have not been told, but now's your chance to win some free Platinum by unfolding your journey in a short story.

Fancy some extra Platinum or a chance to win a special prize?Using no more than 500 words, we’re looking for short fan fiction stories strictly related to Celtic Heroes and the journey of a hero, created entirely by you!

--------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------Thanks for all the great entries!

We really did struggle to pick winners from this so everyone who submitted an entry will receive 1x Super Wisdom Elixir.However, after much deliberation, and taking into account the topic of a Heroes journey, the following are the winners of this Fanfiction competition.

I woke up on a beach one day not knowing where i has my head hurt and the sea salts had gotten to me. There was a man infront of me glowing i thought i was hallucinating he told me i will be a powerful druid and he was my master. He was telling me not to trust anyone or i wil get scammed then i gave him all my money 250k because he told me he could duplicate it. As i went on for my journey he was always there to collect the mobs drops and money off me keeping them safe he was such a nice bloke. We would alway go to Stonevale and kill wisps i only got to heal him but i was important. He told me not to wonder off on you're own otherwise i might die and once i am dead, i am dead he didn't want to lose me. As i was travelling around the dangerous land of lir's reach dodging fearsome tree's i noticed an event going on at the castle i walked in and everyone was celebrating Beltane. I asked what all this was about they said they worship the gods every year and thank them for all they have given them. I just joined in and started collecting mask they looked cool.1 year laterI just got my frozen gear today it's a little bit cold when you put it on but it fits perfectly. now i could heal properly. I was still leveling with my friend we went to the OtherWorld to kill a beast called aggragoth. My friend attacked aggragoth turned around and blew fire on him sucks he was wearing ice gear he melted like a popsicle in the sun. i ran out of there so fast i think my suit started melting from my speed. Later that day i went back to get his reamains i got so much loot i had to buy a backpack expansion. it turns out he was the richest player in the game now i am and i sometimes give out money to unfortunate noobs that were like me.

The Land of Connaught is undoubtably harsh and cruel. To be where I am from one must go through the nightmares everynight of the homeland.. Queen Medb and her devastating army in the villages of our own. I was just a boy when I enlisted. Such an innocent soul made a vital mistake. I did not know what Dal Riata was nor was I aware of the upcoming events.. As training passed and I grew stronger and more aware of the hatred within me I did not once think of what I was a part of. A battle plan emerged. It was to take countrol of a of a reach by the name of Lirs. The mission was upon us! It was a cold and frosty morning. My daily rations were handed out to my shaking hands. Hard Tack and a little Bread. Our boat sailed on. As time passed we could begin to make out the reach. As soon as our boat docked fear ran throughout my body. Standing on the Shores of Lirs Reach I saw a light house in flames. And my men lay dead beside me. A powerful warrior approached me. Without question I bowed down and begged for mercy. He raised his blade and stopped. He said the Gods were merciful on my soul this day. He asked for my help, as his apprentice to learn the ways of good. I thought long and hard. I had to betray the motherland. Such a cold example of treason. However in the end I had done something great for the good in this world. Years passed and enemies fell. I became a legend of all the lands... To this day I stand by the people of Dal Riata as a Guardian! And as a traitor to the people of Connaught. I stand ready for the good order the lands even as my body ages. My bretheren still persist to hunt for me. Though their attempts have all failed. I still have my armour and I keep it in a chest... Its old design with golden gloves and boots haunt me. Of all the Connacht kinsmen I have killed! These are just the everyday troubles I wake up to every morning. The flashbacks torture my inner self. I do question my actions on that day. A selfish act? But for now I am loyal to the people I think of as my own now. Whether one day that changes who will know? Time will always tell...... And YOU all are Witnesses.....

Thanks for Reading-Invaded-

Last edited by Invaded on Fri Jul 04, 2014 3:49 am, edited 4 times in total.

My name is Joan Stoal, I am a fisherman from the lands ruled by the Norse, although, personally, I only became i fisherman because I wanted to get as far away as possible from those Skullcrusher Warlords... What i really wanted to be was a hunter, although I have the bow ability of a common golden coin, I know how to handle myself with a knife, I even know how to strike so quick with one, they say that damage is done instantly, within the blink of an eye.

Today i am catching exotic fish for the Jotun Warlords (giants of the skullcrushers) but a huge storm is approaching, a great storm at that, it was raging, throwing my rowboat around like an infant in a bathtub - i quickly fell off, i was underwater now desperately looking for air, although i couldn't find any, color was draining from my vision now, getting darker, the light started receding from the edges of my eyes, it was now almost impossible to see, i was in a tunnel of darkness, i could feel my boat above me, so i couldn't go back up. The lighter spot in the middle was replaced with a pulsing bright ray... I was dead.

My head was burstIng with pain, but everything else was okay, i looked well fed, healthy even. I first looked around the beach, there was a man there, he told me that he was my caretaker but that he had been attacked by the Picts, horrible giant warriors, and having my sense of luck, Brennan (my caretaker's name) told me to help him fight one, but as he did so much for me, I helped him.

I walked up to one, shouted something I can't repeat in this message, and ran... As i did i noticed something heavy in my pocket, my old hunting knife, I turned around abruptly while the Pict was having trouble moving his bulky body. I ran towards him and did a powerful uppercut under his ribs straight into his heart, the Pict suffered for about 30 seconds and finally died on that beach. I was making my way toward some sort of castle in the distance.

When i finally got there i met loads of kind folks, even some other highlanders, they helped me find my way through this new world, get me situated with joining a clan and even got me a wonderful job as the General of a clan! Today however, a great danger has unsurfaced, the the impending raid on our civilization by creatures of the Otherworld!

I was afraid, yes, i have never been so afraid... Ive seen visions of the things that live there, severed eyes, bloodthirsty trees, creatures of the earth its self, even some creatures that look like Dragons, but perhaps the most terrifying are the Blackstone race, the ones that want to free Crom Cruach, Lord of Evil, although it looks as if stealing those disc fragments has slowed their progress.

My name is Joan Stoal, I am a wealthy fisherman from the lands ruled by the Norse, although, personally, I only became i fisherman because I wanted to get as far away as possible from those Skullcrusher Warlords... What i really wanted to be was a hunter, although I have the bow ability of a common golden coin, I know how to handle myself with a knife, I even know how to strike so quick with one, they say that damage is done instantly, within the blink of an eye.

Today i am catching deep sea fish for the Jotun Warlords (giants of the skullcrushers) but a huge storm is approaching, a great storm at that, it was raging, throwing my rowboat around like an infant in a bathtub - i quickly fell off, i was underwater now desperately looking for air, although i couldn't find any, color was draining from my vision now, getting darker, the light started rationing from the does of my eyes, it was now almost impossible to see, i was in a tunnel of darkness, i could feel my boat above me, so i couldn't go back up. The lighter spot in the middle was replaced with a pulsing bright ray... I was dead.

My head felt like burstIng with pain, but everything else was okay, i looked well fed, healthy even. I first looked around the beach, there was a man there, he told me that he was my caretaker but that he had been attacked by the Picts, horrible giant warriors, and having my sense of luck, Brennan (my caretaker's name) told me to help him fight one, but as he did so much for me, I helped him.

I walked up to one, shouted something I can't repeat in writing, and ran... As i did i noticed something heavy in my pocket, my old hunting knife, I turned around abruptly while the Pict was having trouble moving his giant body. I ran towards him and did a powerful uppercut under his ribs straight into his heart, the Pict suffered for about 30 seconds and finally died on that beach. I was making my way toward some sort of castle in the distance.

When i finally got there i met lots of nice folks, even some other highlanders, they helped me find my way through this new world, get me situated with joining a clan and even got me a wonderful job! Today however, a nuisance has appeared, the great dragon, Mordris.

She has become easier over the years of fighting her, although today she has done something unexpected by anyone, when i slit his neck, the skin slipped off of his great skull and fell on my head, everyone applauded and told me that this was a sign of a great blessing... One can only hope that this is the case in the lands of Dal Rita.

The End - Liviticus

I Laughed out Loud when you said " I have the bow ability of a Gold Coin" hahaha

One day I woke up on a bed,my mother and father were there above me.When they noticed me open my eyes they said HAPPY BIRTHDAY!It took me a while to realize but I remembered....it was my 18th birthday! I was so happy i ran out of my room and outside.This was the day I was going to be a hero a celtic hero.All my presents were armour,weapons and gold to get me started.But then monsters came,they came crashing through the windows and killed my parents....I was mad,truly furious i got my armour and weapons on and slayed the beasts with all my might,I told my self i will avenge my parents by slaying all the monsters.On my quest of vengance I met with some nice people,they became my friends soon enough and we got stronger together,we made a clan called revenge,we got more people and one of us said that the only way to kill all monsters was to kill the boss.He created a map to the boss and we fought through a lot of monsters,we weant through portals and such to get the artifacts for a new map.Finally we made it to the boss.It was a ferocious red dragon,we called it mordris.After hours of trying to slay the boss we did it. Some people died but our master druid brought plenty of res idols.We went out of where the boss was and went home we noticed there were still monsters though....but we were far to weak to try and kill the boss again so we just went home and waited for the next generation to succed where we have failed.Good luck celtic heroes,may the updates be wih you.

Last edited by PegasusX on Mon Jun 30, 2014 5:28 pm, edited 1 time in total.

Hidden along the wall of a large cistern, Landarin hoped the flames were shaded from view and the tendrils of smoke lost in the expansive ceiling above. Tired eyes poured over the dancing flames of the small cook fire burning behind a pile of rubble and weeds growing through the cracks of the long-abandoned stone floor of the sewers beneath Farcrag Castle. The smells of a small meal cooking, the last of the black dumpy and wild thyme gathered from the fields above, mingled with the faint scent of rot that became more pronounced the deeper he went.

Cautions learned from the many years of hunting wolves in the Reach with his Uncle as a boy waned as hunger overcame his desire to remain hidden. “I have to eat something . . .” he mumbled softly to himself as he tore a piece of overcooked meat from the small bones and chewed slowly. As the hours spent searching blurred into days, he wondered how he would draw upon the strength to find his way out, on the dwindling chance that he could find her down in this forsaken place.

As the flames lulled him into a stupor, Landarin dreamt of the last time he saw her face . . . .

“Why do you worry so? “ She said incredulously. “You said I should busy my mind with work, now that I have some, all you can do is sulk!”

“I do not care for the thought of you going down there is all . . .” trailing off, all he could do was look on in worry. She had made up her mind. Tomorrow morning she would follow the team of architects into the old sewers.

“Just promise me you will come home safely,” he said sternly, “I expect to see you here waiting when I return from the hunt.”

“You rangers and your hunting,” she chided while fingering his promise ring hanging on a chain around her neck, “plenty of time for rabbits and wolves, but no time to be happy for your wife!”

The fire sparked and cracked, bringing him back to his surroundings. It had been seven days since he saw her go.

A splash in the distance rattled him to readiness. A hand notched a homemade arrow, pulled from a well-worn leather quiver at his belt. His bow, fashioned from the rarest materials in Dal Riata, was held as an extension of a highly trained ranger.

Fire-blind vision betrayed him; he could not see the shadows wavering. Landarin threw a fistful of dry weeds on the fire, briefly illuminating the shadowed figure. His breathe caught and choked in the stale, rotten air. Her hair had fallen out, her once soft skin now grey and paper-thin. His ring still hung on the chain around her neck as his arrow flew. His wailing cry was lost in the halls of the tomb below the castle.

A warm breeze kissed his lips. The birds chirped happily from the branches above. The soft dew-laden grass tickled his hair. A white light blinded him as he took a peek up at the sapphire sky above. As his vision came into focus, a horse’s nostrils blocked his view, sniffing around his face before continuing to his abdomen. As its snout brushed him, the warrior felt an intense pain: it wrapped around him and shot through his spine and around his torso, causing him to roar in agony. He could hear muttering from near his feet and so, with a deep breath, he hauled his head off the ground. To his horror, his abdomen was pooling with blood. There, at his feet, knelt a figure. Small, stout and aged, its head hung low over the warrior’s stomach. Its hair hung like a veil to conceal its face, making it unrecognisable. It was muttering some sort of ancient language; something the warrior had heard for the first time, but it was as if his body understood every sentence. Every word. His skin was listening. Answering. A soothing warmth washed over him with each sweeping motion the old figure made with its hands above the pooling wound. It swayed side to side, muttering continuously, arms moving in fluid motions, staff resting readily against a stone by its side. Its fingers quivered, laden with emerald rings that shimmered and flashed in the afternoon sun.

The horse withdrew abruptly, its feet frantically kicking up the soil. The figure’s hands halted and the muttering stopped. The soothing warmth subsided as if a wave of icy water broke over the warrior’s fading body. With an almighty neigh, the stallion fled into the horizon. The figure gasped and snatched up its staff, a green set stone glistening on its tip. As it rose into the air, the stone began to glow and radiate with light. A flash of light erupted from it, shot into the air like a firework, and exploded with a blinding flash, dissipating across the blue sky which made it glow green. From the horizon, flames licked the air and a huge dragon swooped towards the figure. The anonymous cloaked being shouted loudly over the roaring flames as the sky flashed once more and a bolt of lightning burnt through the sky and through the dragon’s crimson wing. It roared to the heavens, and, with one sweeping blow of its foot, knocked the figure to sprawl by the warrior’s side. It was a woman. A druid. Her wrinkled face was etched with a weak smile as she looked deeply into the warrior’s eyes. They twinkled as she muttered her final words. This time, they made perfect sense. “Goodbye, my warrior. My Hero. My Celtic Hero”. She gasped. Her smile faded. Her eyes became vacant.

Now it was his turn to fight. He took up his sword by his side. He was ready. For her. For Dál Riata.

I was a child when the darkness came over dal rail. rumors spread like wildfire that great evil was rising. The day of the raid, a army of two thousand stormed our beachs of Dal Riata ravaging everything; as if infecting and destroying all in its path. I was lucky,at this time I had been selling my wears within the castle, then the sky turned grey. like a ghost,the smoke danced through the clear blue skies, and within minutes the sun was blocked out, soot falling upon everything, like a blanket.struck with panic the people began running in all directions, castle guards directing people to safety, knowing that many of them would perish. i was only 12 at the time no mother or father around I didn't know what to do but cry on the soot covered castle floor and then, a soft touch fell upon my shoulder, and a voice as soothing as summer wind said to me"rise my dear we must go now"; and as I looked up at her the sun broke though shattering the smoke, blinding me all I could see was her oceanic blue eyes and I knew I was in the protection of a Mage.we left the castle only to see the village was ablaze and the people in chains my family in chains;everyone injured as crimson blood fell from all parts of there body. Passing out my vision blurred and all I heard was the shouting from the villainous minions of the once great magician Gelebron. what once was just a legend became real no longer a scary story told to children to get them to sleep. now realizing everything about Gelebron was real. then i awoke from the darkness in my mind with a druid who's hands glowed white, with eyes of gold staring down at me in sadness as I arose i looked around and i stared up at the ceiling which was not solid... but water; snapping back into reality, the terror set in and as far as I knew: everyone in Dal Riata was dead and with the Mage who saved me staring intently at me as if I were to fade back into the darkness,forcing me to put the pain in my stomach aside, I looked at her and said with utter importance, to train me in the way of mages so that I may one day avenge my people and bring back light to the land of Dal Riata . I knew it would be hard seeing how I was not born with the blood of a Mage, but a heroes journey to greatness is always hard but the rewards of friendship and the impact you have on the people around you, is the greatest reward anyone could receive. I say this to the remaining people of Dal Riata in hopes that they find courage to rise up against this force and bring back hope for future generations. This is not the end it's only the beginning.

It was an adventurous journey. Ive traveled the lands of Dal Riata. I've conquered dungeons, destroyed beasts of unimaginable power, yet none like this. I've explored these lands for years, and finally, I'm ready. I've been handed the most legendary armor in all the lands, armor made to fight dragons. I've made friends, joined a clan, and along the way found the true meaning of being a celtic hero. I have killed the legendary dragon aggragoth, and slain the mighty undead troll king hrungnir. Now I am standing at the foot of Mordris, a divine beast terrorizing these lands, carrying out the works of Crom, the god who had vanquished many of my brothers. Now we prepare, ready our weapons, and drink as if it were our last.. We all raise our weapons, battle ready. "ATTACK!" our generals command. We charge at the priestess, Mordris's aid in battle. She puts up a fight, but we end her by striking a sword into her throat. Now for the trolls. We charge at these terrible incarnations of devils, and fight. They begin to wipe us out, swinging their clubs furiously, they knock us back. "Slit every one of their throats!" Our chieftain yells at us. Suddenly, we begin to advance into the battle, taking them out one by one. Now to destroy what has damned is all. "Charge!" Yells a guardian, amassed with legendary weapons. We begin to strike, our armour deflecting the divine winds of its fire. Our allies fall, one by one. A miraculous idol revives them, bringing them back from the dead, but at a cost of their own souls. Suddenly, Mordris whips his tail at me, knocking me back, and almost killing me. I quickly pull out a strong magical potion, made to restore my well being. I feel a sudden surge of energy flow through me as I drink it. "Come at me!" I yell as I charge. My trident and my blade clashing against the claws of this mighty beast. Sparks flying, lives hanging in the balance. She brings me down, my breath stopping that instant. Suddenly, a glow shines from my backpack, my soul diminishing, yet my breath coming back. I get up and begin to fight again, but this time, I see a warrior, a warrior with a powerful shield and sword, forged for this battle. His shield sparkling, and his sword glowing with a divine light. They clash for a couple of minutes, until he finally brings her to her knees, pierces her scales, and rips her heart in 2. From that day forth, the darkness had retreated... Until one day, an even darker force covered our lands, bodies rising from their graves... This is no mere enemy... This... is a necromancer...

Last edited by xvanguardx on Wed Jul 02, 2014 6:27 pm, edited 6 times in total.